Conversations at the Intersections of Time
by Sentimental Star
Summary: What happens when a thirteen-year-old Anakin Skywalker and his twenty-nine-year-old Master get snatched back in time, only to come face to face with a fifteen-year-old Obi-Wan…and a very much alive Qui-Gon Jinn? CH. 2 UP!--ObiAniQui Bonding. NO Slash.--
1. Conduit

**DISCLAIMER: **I own nothing in the Star Wars universe. Everything belongs to that mastermind George Lucas.

**TITLE:** Conversations at the Intersections of Time

**AUTHOR:** Sentimental Star

**SUMMARY:** What happens when a thirteen-year-old Anakin Skywalker and his twenty-eight-year-old Master get snatched back in time, only to come face to face with a fifteen-year-old Obi-Wan…and a very much alive Qui-Gon Jinn? (ObiAniQui Bonding) (_NO_ Slash)

**SERIES:** None (yet)

**SPOILERS:** None

**CATEGORY:** AU, H/C, Angst/Drama, Family

**TIME PERIOD:** 4 years Post-TPM, 10 years Pre-TPM

**RATING:** T

**AUTHOR'S NOTE:** Just my attempt to rectify a little mishap known as Qui-Gon's death (and, of course, everything that follows ::winks::). I may not be updating this as frequently as I'd like, considering I've committed myself to several other different fics, as well (not to mention job apps), but I'll be posting whenever I'm satisfied with a chapter I've finished. Please R&R!

_**"Speech"**_

_**/Personal Thoughts/**_

_**:Telepathy:**_

**Conversations at the Intersections of Time**

_Chapter One: Conduit_

The Force works in mysterious ways. That is one of the earliest lessons the younglings in the Crèche are taught, by none other than Master Yoda himself. And it is repeated often over the years that follow, in exasperation, in amusement, in reprimand...

But not even Master Yoda truly understands all the Force's intricacies.

The Force is rather like a sentient being—it has no tangible form, but it has a will and (some say) a mind of its own. Those who follow it, like the Jedi, are granted extraordinary powers and enhanced senses. In turn, however, they must give in to its every whim.

And it has many.

-I-I-I-I-I-I-I-I-I-I-

Thirteen-year-old Anakin Skywalker silently leaned in the threshold of the balcony, unobtrusively studying the fifteen-year-old version of his Master. This younger Obi-Wan seemed so…so…_different_ from his Master, in a way that was painfully obvious.

Life and vibrancy sparked around his fellow Padawan. An energy and a joy, a simple love of living that endeared him to the older boy far faster than a sparring match ever could. Endeared him to this older boy who would one day become his Master.

"Are you just going to stand there? Banthas move faster than you do," came the quiet call. Obi-Wan turned to face him, sea-change eyes dancing with mischief.

And Anakin felt a stab of anguish. Had his Master ever looked like that after Qui-Gon's death? But he grinned in return, stepping out to join the other boy on the balcony. "Maybe so," he retorted warmly, "but they're clumsier."

And Obi-Wan laughed, a wonderful, happy sound that Anakin had barely ever heard, and it went straight to his heart. He stood shoulder to shoulder with the taller Padawan at the balcony's railing.

They both were silent a moment, just gazing down at the small, private garden that every Master/Padawan pair had. Then Anakin stiffened slightly, straightening as he perceived his Master's presence and the older version of Obi-Wan stepped out into the small plot of land.

The teenager at his side also stilled a bit, eyes on the grown-up version of himself. Anakin's Master made his way to the center of the garden and there stopped, sitting on an ornate bench and pulling his robe more tightly around him.

Anakin bit his lip, wanting to perhaps comfort the older man somehow, but not knowing if he could. Or even should.

"Why am I so sad?" the fifteen-year-old murmured. He glanced at the thirteen-year-old at his side. "Anakin, what happened? I mean no offense, but…aren't I a bit young? To be a Master, I mean."

Anakin shut his eyes tightly for a moment, then opened them and squarely met the younger Obi-Wan's gaze. "You are," he acknowledged quietly.

The other Padawan shook his head, confused. "But surely Master Qui-Gon could have…" He trailed off at the look on Anakin's face. Cold, sick dread clenched in his stomach and invaded his heart. "He's not there, in this world of yours, is he? He's…he's…oh, Force…" He paled 'til he was almost white.

Anakin had to shut his eyes again and turn away. "No," he answered dully, "he's not. Only one thing could do…that…to you." He nodded to where his young Master had remained sitting, head bowed. "You're only twenty-nine," he whispered.

The thirteen-year-old whipped his head around in startlement when a rather pale-faced Obi-Wan suddenly grabbed his sleeve, looking incredibly unsteady. "What happened, Anakin?! When?! Please, you have to tell me!" he quite nearly begged.

Anakin, admittedly very frightened and very concerned, quietly related the battle to reclaim Naboo detail for detail as he remembered it. By the end, a very shaky Obi-Wan had sunk down onto the ground. "A Sith," he choked, a tear trickling down his cheek. "That monster from my dream…" He glanced down to where his older counterpart sat. "Oh, Gods, I must be beating myself up for this!"

"All the time," Anakin muttered, eyes with his Master.

Obi-Wan looked sharply at him when he heard that. "Why do you not go to him?" he asked softly.

"Because I don't know what I can do," came the even softer reply. He felt tears rush to the back of his eyes. "When you get like this I _never_ know what to do. I see you like you are now, and then I see you as my Master. You're not the same anymore, Obi-Wan. You never laugh, you hardly ever smile. It…it hurts." He shut his eyes and hugged himself, as if against the cold, tears squeezing out from the corners of his eyes. "I feel Master Qui-Gon's death a little, I know. But you were his Padawan for over twelve years. I _want_ to help you, but I don't know _how_. It seems that no matter what I do it's never enough."

Obi-Wan smiled sadly. "I understand more than you think," he advised softly.

Anakin frowned slightly at him through tears.

The fifteen-year-old nodded, sad smile still in place. "I don't know if I've told you this, yet, but Qui-Gon…he lost a Padawan to the Dark Side. Xanatos, his name was. He still hurts over it, still becomes depressed, especially around the anniversary of his death—which will be two years come next month." Younger Obi-Wan sighed and bowed his head, copying Anakin's actions. "I help him as much as I can, but there's only so much I can do. If I could, I would take away that pain—all of it—but I can't. And I never feel it is enough." He raised his head and again gave a small smile to the other boy. "So you see, we aren't all that different, you and I."

"At least Qui-Gon chose you," Anakin murmured. "And at least he _wants_ you."

Obi-Wan glanced at him, before shaking his head. "He didn't choose me, Anakin, the Force did. And he did not always want me, you know. I'm not sure if he does, even now."

Anakin glanced back at him, aghast. "He _loves_ you!" blurted. "And he _still_ loved you when we first met!"

The other teenager looked suitably baffled and astonished at that. "What?"

"The…the way he looks at you…_anyone_ can see how much he cares about you. You only have to enter a room and his eyes just…light up!" the younger boy exclaimed. Force, he had never known that his Master thought _this_ about himself! He glanced back down at the garden. And now…what must his Master be thinking? "He looks at you like my mom looked at me." He shook his head. "I've never seen my Master's eyes look like Qui-Gon's when he looks at you."

The fifteen-year-old blushed softly, but insisted, "You don't know that, Anakin. Perhaps you've just never been watching me. Even if I _am_ hurting, I doubt I could ever _not_ care about you."

Anakin looked startled. He supposed…he _supposed_ that was possible. After all, he was still trying to get to know his Master. Perhaps there would be a time, a day when he would notice that same look in his teacher's eyes.

Obi-Wan must have seen or sensed his doubt because he smiled sadly. "Think of it this way, Ani: your Master made a promise to Qui-Gon while he was dying. Your Master could have very well chosen to disregard that promise in his grief. Yet, he didn't. He let you in, chose to care about you, in _spite_ of that pain. It's probably not easy," he gave a second faint smile, "I've never been able to deal with grief all that well. I doubt many people can. But to train you and look after you, and to continue training and looking after you, even though he's clearly still hurting…I think you might just find that he cares a great deal more about you than you think. Ask him. You might be surprised by the answer you receive. And it will be the truth, Anakin—I could never tell a proper lie, except to save my life, and even then, it's by the skin of my teeth."

The other boy snorted, swiping irritably at a final tear on his cheek. "You could do the same, you know."

Younger Obi-Wan shook his head, weak smile still on his lips. "I'm not that brave, Anakin."

_Tbc._


	2. Well Begun is Half Done

_**Disclaimer:**_ I own nothing in this marvelous universe; it all belongs to mastermind George Lucas.

_**Author's Note:**_ ::grins sheepishly:: Well, I've read some really fantastic "snatched back in time" fics in these archives (have you seen _Shadows of the Future_? It's utterly phenomenal—go read it!), and decided I'd really like to try my hand at one. I hope you enjoy this next chapter, as it's going to be one of my favorites, I think!

_**Reviewers:**_ All _13_ of you, thank you! I'm so pleased you like this!

_**Rating:**_ T

_**Summary:**_ What happens when a thirteen-year-old Anakin Skywalker and his twenty-nine-year-old Master get snatched back in time, only to come face to face with a fifteen-year-old Obi-Wan…and a very much alive Qui-Gon Jinn? (ObiAniQui Bonding) (_NO_ Slash)

"_**Speech"**_

_**/Personal Thoughts/**_

_**:Telepathy (Bold):**_

_**Memories (Italics)**_

_Conversations at the Intersections of Time_

_By Sentimental Star_

_Chapter Two: Well Begun is Half Done_

Qui-Gon Jinn had seen many strange and miraculous things during his fifty-four years of life, but nothing quite so strange (or disturbing) as his own apprentice's future shadow.

For that was really the only way he could describe the stranger who had so suddenly appeared in the middle of a mission report early this afternoon (Force, was it really such a short time ago?):

"…_We have safely delivered the babe to the Crèche, my Masters. Force-willing, there will be a place for her among us."_

"_Appreciate your report the Council does," Master Yoda intoned softly, with a tap of his walking stick. "Performed well you have, Qui-Gon Jinn and Obi-Wan Kenobi."_

_Master and Padawan bowed in unison, Qui-Gon hiding a stray smile when Obi-Wan bashfully ducked his head. His Padawan had performed exceptionally well this mission and (though he doubted he would ever tell the boy) Qui-Gon was proud of him._

_Master Yoda cleared his throat when they straightened. "One last question I have. For you it is, Obi-Wan."_

_Qui-Gon frowned when he felt the boy tense. "Y-Yes, Master Yoda?"_

"_Why look so tired do you? Injured were you?"_

_Alarm shot through Qui-Gon's veins. __Had__ Obi-Wan been injured? How could he not have noticed? He'd observed that his Padawan had been less cheerful lately, but he'd chalked it up to the stress of the mission. Sith, what kind of Master was he to not even have __realized__--!_

_Obi-Wan shook his head vigorously, perhaps sensing something of his Master's emotions (though, Qui-Gon usually kept most of his shields up so he couldn't be sure). "N-No, Master Yoda, I'm fine. Really! It's just--"_

_At that moment, the Force suddenly screamed through the room, causing a startled Obi-Wan to stumble backwards into his Master as all twelve Jedi Masters surrounding them abruptly leapt to their feet, half of them with lightsabers ignited._

_Two figures abruptly appeared in the center of the room. Struggled a second. And then the taller of the two collapsed to his knees._

_A young, strident voice rang out in the chamber: "MASTER!"_

_IOIOIOIOIOI_

_For a few seconds no one moved. No one dared even __breathe__ too loudly._

_Qui-Gon felt his Padawan's lithe body trembling against him as the younger Jedi struggled to assess what the Force was telling him. The Master reserved his own judgment until he could hear Obi-Wan's point of view—the boy tended to be uncannily perceptive._

_The taller figure faintly groaned and sat up gingerly. "Ani?" it was a moan._

_Involuntarily, Qui-Gon's heart clenched. That pain-wracked voice sounded a little too close to his Padawan's for comfort._

_And speaking of Padawans: "I-I'm here, Master," the young voice spoke up again, faintly shaking, as the smaller figure staggered to his feet, "but I-I don't know where--"_

_At that point he happened to glance up…and blue eyes widened as they took in twelve Jedi Masters (six of whom had their lightsabers ignited) on their feet._

_The young apprentice promptly stumbled backwards, eyes widening even more, and within seconds, a seventh __**snap-hiss**_ _rang out in the Council Chambers. An azure blade nearly the same color as his eyes sprang to life. The young face paled._

_There was another moan and Qui-Gon felt the Force draw itself in sharply around the younger Master as the young man shook off his apparent daze (and, oh, he __was__ young; no more than twenty-nine). As Qui-Gon watched, a slim hand reached out and gently grasped the apprentice's elbow. "Anakin, calm down," there was only a slight tremor that wracked the young man's voice._

_The Padawan (Anakin, was it? Ani?) looked appalled; he tightened his grip on the lightsaber hilt. "But, Master--!"_

_A second hand reached out and grasped the other elbow, firmly turning the boy around to face his young Master. "Anakin. Focus. Concentrate, and __feel__. Are we in any danger?"_

_For a whole tenth of a second, the child looked like he might rebel. But finally, grudgingly, he lowered his lightsaber. And Qui-Gon felt the Force snap into focus around him almost as sharply as it had around his Master._

_Qui-Gon frowned slightly. He had impressive control for one so young—they both did. Even Obi-Wan, strong as he was, hadn't quite mastered that, yet._

_The Learner's lightsaber clattered to the floor and deactivated. As if that were some sort of signal, those Masters who had ignited their own lightsabers also deactivated them._

_But Qui-Gon never had a chance to speak up. The apprentice—Anakin—abruptly spun around on heel to face him…and his blue eyes went wide. "M-M-Ma…Mas…" he seemed completely unable to form the title._

_His puzzled Master raised his head to follow the boy's line of sight…and sea-change eyes came to rest on Qui-Gon._

_The older Master's entire world came crashing to a halt._

_IOIOIOIOIOI_

_The silence spun out between them._

_**:Obi-Wan…?:**__ Qui-Gon did not even realize he had spoken across their bond until both his Padawan and the younger man before him started…for two very different reasons._

_Blue eyes widened and promptly swirled to gray. The young face immediately turned white._

_**:Master!:**__ it was a ragged sob and came, not from the fifteen-year-old beside him, but from the twenty-nine-year-old in front of him._

_Qui-Gon nearly snapped his shields up._

_Hardly ever, in the past two and a half years, had he and his apprentice communicated mind to mind. It had happened on occasion—during times of great need—but never any more than that. His gut instinct—as it had been, even with Obi-Wan—was to force the intruder out._

_But now…Force, he just __couldn't__! Even with his shields at maximum, he had always had some sense of the boyish warmth that was Obi-Wan lapping against them. It had soothed him after many a harsh mission and it continued soothing him, even now. But tangled up in that familiar warmth—and yet, also inexplicably separate—was a completely alien __rawness__, interspersed with a literal flood of emotions: fear, denial, mindless, intermingling joy and grief; it flooded every corner of Qui-Gon's mind…until some of the strongest shields the older Master had ever encountered slammed up._

_There was a heart-wrenching cry: "Ani, is he real?!" the young Master clutched his Padawan Learner's arm until his knuckles were blanched white. "He __can't__ be real!"_

_The Learner's eyes, for his part, never left the bundle of spiraling confusion and bewilderment at Qui-Gon's side. Belatedly, the older man realized Obi-Wan's hands gripped as tightly to his sleeve as his supposed twenty-nine-year-old counterpart's did to his Anakin's._

_With a great deal of effort (and as Qui-Gon and the hitherto-invisible-Council watched), the Learner dragged his attention away from Obi-Wan and focused in on Qui-Gon's signature in the Force._

_Qui-Gon forced himself not to fidget, to ignore the young boy's tentative probing and prodding. He felt Obi-Wan tense at his side and realized that his Padawan Learner was undergoing the same scrutiny._

_Fortunately, the younger Padawan's inspection took only a few seconds. Qui-Gon felt him recoil sharply as he found what he was looking for, and quickly draw back into himself._

_Azure eyes snapped open and the young boy—he looked no older than thirteen—swayed in place. His breathing hitched, "I-It's him, Master. It's really him. And is that…is that…Force, is that really __you__?"_

_Any doubts Qui-Gon may have had about the identity of this familiar stranger vanished as the younger Master promptly lost whatever had been left of his lunch._

_IOIOIOIOIOI_

_Obi-Wan moved first. Before Qui-Gon (or Mace or Yoda, for that matter) could utter a single word of protest or worry, his fifteen-year-old apprentice had released his sleeve and hurried over to kneel beside his twenty-nine-year-old apparition and the man's thirteen-year-old apprentice._

_As Qui-Gon watched (and, somewhere in the depths of his thoroughly shocked mind, felt his pride once again flare up), Obi-Wan reached out and gently touched the younger boy's trembling shoulder._

_There was a sudden, muffled sob and, before anyone could blink, the young apprentice promptly tackled Obi-Wan in a fierce hug._

_A small smile flashed across the fifteen-year-old's countenance and he lightly patted the other Padawan's shoulder. Qui-Gon saw the young Master start when Obi-Wan turned that smile to him and held his free hand out._

_Delicately—oh, so delicately—the older young man slide his hand into the one he had been offered._

_Qui-Gon felt his breath catch as those painfully gray and stormy eyes widened even more, shining with tears._

_Quickly, the twenty-nine-year-old jerked his hand back, cradling it to his chest as if burned._

_Obi-Wan raised his head and fixed Qui-Gon with a look of uncertain determination. He was clearly unsure of his Master's possible reaction, but nonetheless expected one._

_Which left Qui-Gon in a bind. Only in the past year had he dared to even put a hand on Obi-Wan's shoulder. He did not count himself as particularly affectionate—at least, not since Xanatos had turned. Not even Mace or Tahl could elicit such a response from him anymore._

_But Obi-Wan seemed to think that his near-double needed __some__ form of comfort from the man who was apparently his former Master._

_Qui-Gon swallowed thickly. Before he could talk himself out of it, he strode quickly across the room and knelt gracefully beside the younger Master. The smile that lit Obi-Wan's face then made his daring more than worth it._

_Something in Qui-Gon broke._

_It didn't matter, did it? It didn't matter what age the young man before him was or where (and when) he came from._

_He was still Obi-Wan. He was still Qui-Gon's bright-eyed young savior, who'd burst into the older man's life, demanding nothing, and yet giving everything._

_Nothing__ mattered…except the here and now, and the aching shell of his still-young Padawan._

_Qui-Gon rested his hand gently against the side of the younger man's face, feeling him try to jerk back. "You're safe now, Obi-Wan," he soothed, much as the fifteen-year-old at his side soothed the younger Padawan. His heart clenched as the twenty-nine-year-old squeezed his eyes tightly shut and a tear trickled down his cheek. "You're safe."_

_(End Flashback)_

That had been hours ago. It was just near sunset now.

Before any whys or wherefores could be discussed, both time-travelers had undergone a thorough physical at the behest of the Council. Yoda in particular had been insistent that they receive a full examination: everything from their midichlorian count to a catalog of their injuries.

As Qui-Gon had expected (and half-feared), the young Master was indeed a twenty-nine-year-old Obi-Wan Kenobi. The fact that the younger man's thirteen-year-old Padawan, Anakin Skywalker, had the highest midichlorian count in recorded history took rather a back seat to that knowledge.

Especially when (after Qui-Gon managed to snag a moment alone with his former Padawan) Obi-Wan had blanched at the older man's inquiry about how—and why—he had taken such a powerful apprentice so young.

Qui-Gon had anticipated Obi-Wan would pass his Trials into Knighthood at twenty-eight or twenty-seven—young, though there had been younger (if not many). The Council usually insisted that Knights wait a year or two (preferably three) before taking on an apprentice; it was one of the few things they—and Qui-Gon—agreed on.

Obi-Wan and Anakin had been together for four.

Sighing, Qui-Gon rubbed the back of his neck and, silently sliding back the transparisteel doors, made to step out onto the balcony.

"…Think of it this way, Ani," Qui-Gon froze as his fifteen-year-old apprentice's voice reached him, "your Master made a promise to Qui-Gon while he was dying. Your Master could have very well chosen to disregard that promise in his grief. Yet, he didn't. He let you in, chose to care about you, in _spite_ of that pain. It's probably not easy," Qui-Gon heard the faint smile in his Padawan's voice, "I've never been able to deal with grief all that well. I doubt many people can. But to train you and look after you, and to continue training and looking after you, even though he's clearly still hurting…I think you might just find that he cares a great deal more about you than you think. Ask him. You might be surprised by the answer you receive. And it will be the truth, Anakin—I could never tell a proper lie, except to save my life, and even then, it's by the skin of my teeth."

Qui-Gon grabbed for the threshold of the door, thoughts spinning, /_What_…?/

There was a thick snort from Anakin. "You could do the same, you know."

Obi-Wan's voice seemed to weaken. "I'm not that brave, Anakin."

Qui-Gon shut his eyes, fighting his suddenly light head. /Oh, _Obi-Wan_…/ he thought painfully, not bothering to differentiate which Obi-Wan it was directed at, /What happened to you?/

Without his conscious permission, the words fell from his lips: "Not brave enough for what, Padawan?" he asked (rather roughly), finally stepping out onto the balcony.

Obi-Wan shot to his feet, a great deal paler than normal, and Anakin spun around to face him, both children completely startled. "N-Nothing very important, Master," the older boy stammered quietly, flushing red as he ducked his head.

Anakin recovered quickly, and shot a fondly exasperated scowl at the back of the older Padawan's head. Qui-Gon, while taking note of it, did not mention his future grandPadawan's reaction. Instead, he inclined his head thoughtfully, "Ah. Then you will not mind when I say I humbly beg differ."

Obi-Wan's head shot up in surprise. "How did you--?"

Qui-Gon held up a hand. "Padawan."

Obi-Wan subsided, once more ducking his head and beginning to fidget with his hands. Qui-Gon's midnight eyes saddened. "Obi-Wan."

Obi-Wan looked up again. Qui-Gon smiled faintly. "Any child who vows to ignite his slave-collar so that his Master may go free is _quite_ brave in my mind."

Out of the corner of his eye, Qui-Gon noted Anakin perking up in interest, but decided it should be Obi-Wan's task to tell his future Padawan of Bandomeer. Before he could change his mind, the older Jedi reached out and gently (if briefly) tugged on his apprentice's braid. "I would that you not disparage yourself so, my Padawan."

A shy flush of pleasure spread across Obi-Wan's cheeks as he ducked his head again, timidly fingering the braid that hung just below his right ear. At the diffident smile and murmured, "Yes, Master," Qui-Gon blinked and promptly decided that he should try to use that particular gesture much more often.

Anakin snorted softly and fondly shook his head, lightly thumping Obi-Wan on the shoulder. Then shockingly perceptive azure eyes snapped up to Qui-Gon. "Are you looking for my Master, Master Qui-Gon?"

Qui-Gon blinked, both at the familiarity of the address and the almost desperate request hidden beneath it. He sighed, "I had intended to, Ani. However--"

"He's down there," Anakin interrupted swiftly, prompting a stare from Obi-Wan beside him as he indicated the garden below.

Qui-Gon frowned at the interruption, but did not call the thirteen-year-old out on it. His gaze landed on Anakin's hand, which held Obi-Wan's in a white-knuckled grip, either preventing him from speaking out, or seeking reassurance, or both.

"_Please_, Master Qui-Gon?" the note of desperation rang out clearly now.

Qui-Gon blew out a weary breath. "All right, Anakin, I shall. You have my word."

An almost imperceptible sigh of relief and Anakin relaxed. Shaking his head, Qui-Gon decided not to dwell on it. He rather suspected he would find out one way or another—whether from this Obi-Wan and the child beside him, or from the Obi-Wan whose aching spirit even now called to him from the garden.

Qui-Gon's stomach turned unpleasantly at the thought of speaking with the twenty-nine-year-old version of his Padawan: there was an empty, aching hollowness in the younger man. A darkness in the soul he had finally grown accustomed to thinking of as pure light. He had his suspicions about its origins, given the conversation he'd walked in on, but _Stars_…how could he ever fix it?

Especially when he was rather certain that it had been entirely his fault.

Sighing softly to himself, Qui-Gon made his way over to the balcony and rested his hand on it, gazing down into the garden. His expression remained inscrutable as he quietly studied the younger man ensconced within its confines, trying to ignore the ache that pervaded his heart, and wasn't any more successful than he had been in the Council Chambers.

His knuckles blanched white. He abruptly spun back around. "Obi-Wan!"

Obi-Wan, who had intended to make a discreet exit with Anakin in tow, now froze where he stood in the threshold. "Yes, Master?"

Qui-Gon had the good grace to look embarrassed. "I apologize, Padawan. I did not mean to startle you. But…" he took in a deep, not entirely steady, breath and beckoned Obi-Wan over to him, "would you come here, please?"

Apprehensively, but nonetheless obediently, Obi-Wan did so. Out of the corner of his eye, Qui-Gon caught sight of Anakin coming to the threshold and watching them, but paid the younger Padawan little heed. The Jedi Master hesitated, but eventually crouched down in front of his own fifteen-year-old apprentice.

Obi-Wan was more curious than apprehensive now, and voiced it so, "Master?"

Qui-Gon swallowed, and unsuccessfully ignored the voice at the back of his mind that sounded remarkably like Mace Windu, /Oh, come _on_, Qui,/ it said. /You can do it!/

The older man blew out a breath. Gently, he touched Obi-Wan's cheek and smoothed his cleft chin. "Smile for me, Obi-Wan," he murmured.

Shyly at first, then more and more readily, the boy's lips pulled into a small smile which soon blossomed into a beautiful grin.

Qui-Gon shut his eyes gratefully and carefully pulled away, brushing the back of his fingers against Obi-Wan's right cheek as he stood. "Thank you, Padawan," he whispered, opening his eyes. "Would you and Anakin like to find us a table in the dining hall? His Master and I will be along soon."

The older Jedi accompanied his request with a tentative brush against the fifteen-year-old's mind, and was even more relieved to find the familiar warmth untainted by the darkness he'd sensed in his twenty-nine-year-old counterpart's.

Obi-Wan started at the brush, but outwardly betrayed no more emotion, inclining his head and all but running from the balcony.

Anakin did not even receive the chance to protest his haste. As the older Padawan gently yanked him inside, Qui-Gon caught the warm, but pointed, "_I told you so_," from Anakin, before the transparisteel doors slid shut behind them.

He stilled a wince. /A little more discretion next time might not be amiss, I think./

Shaking his head, Qui-Gon rubbed the back of his neck, aligning his focus with a new train of thought. /Time to finish what I started./

Squaring his jaw and setting his shoulders, Qui-Gon resolutely turned back towards the balcony rail.

_Tbc._


End file.
